know of the
blow-hup and shindy as is took place in Grosvenor Place, sir: and as I
may as well make my money as another, I'd be very much obleeged to you
if you'd tell me whether my Lady will come down any more."

Although Major Pendennis was as much surprised at this intelligence
regarding his servant, as if he had heard that Morgan was a disguised
Marquis, about to throw off his mask and assume his seat in the House
of Peers; and although he was of course indignant at the audacity of
the fellow who had dared to grow rich under his nose, and without
his cognisance; yet he had a natural admiration for every man who
represented money and success, and found himself respecting Morgan, and
being rather afraid of that worthy, as the truth began to dawn upon him.

"Well, Morgan," said he, "I mustn't ask how rich you are; and the
richer the better for your sake, I'm sure. And if I could give you
any information that could serve you, I would speedily help you. But
frankly, if Lady Clavering asks me whether she shall pay any more of Sir
Francis's debts, I shall advise and I hope she won't, though I fear she
will--and that is all I know. And so you are aware that Sir Francis is
beginning again in his--eh--reckless and imprudent course?"

"At his old games, sir--can't prevent that gentleman. He will do it."

"Mr. Strong was saying that a Mr. Moss Abrams was the holder of one of
Sir Francis Clavering's notes. Do you know anything of this Mr. Abrams;
or the amount of the bill?"

"Don't know the bill, know Abrams quite well, sir."

"I wish you would find out about it for me. And I wish you would find
out where I can see Sir Francis Clavering, Morgan."

And Morgan said, "Thank you, sir, yes, sir, I will, sir;" and retired
from the room, as he had entered it, with his usual stealthy respect and
quiet humility; leaving the Major to muse and wonder over what he had
just heard.

The next morning the valet informed Major Pendennis that he had seen Mr.
Abrams; what was the amount of the bill that gentleman was desirous to
negotiate; and that the Baronet would be sure to be in the back-parlour
of the Wheel of Fortune Tavern that day at one o'clock.

To this appointment Sir Francis Clavering was punctual, and as at one
o'clock he sate in the parlour of the tavern in question, surrounded by
spittoons, Windsor chairs, cheerful prints of boxers, trotting horses,
and pedestrians, and the lingering of last night's tobacco fumes--as the
d